Diet Fads Come & Go. My Fat is Here to Stay

Ok. I'm obsessed with my weight, and in some act of denial, or perhaps just stark reality, I have yet to take serious action against the flab in the midsection. (Perhaps I should just keep wrangling with slimming swimwear.) I run, yes. But apparently, that agony is required just to maintain the status quo. I gave up cookies, true. But despite the emotional anxiety, the pounds didn't just fly off. Also true with the alcohol. (That was good news, so I am back to a nightly cocktail. Sanity prevails.)
So, I have been studying the popular diets out there. I could quit carbs, which apparently works. I could drink only lemon water with pills, which works until you collapse. Anorexia, it turns out, takes a long time to work--the body just slows its metabolism until it is forced to eat into fat storage. At that point, of course, my body has enough fat stored up to sustain all of Alabama through a nuclear winter. And then, there is my sister's diet of choice. My 5'11", 135 lb. sister's diet of choice. Clearly, it works. Let me explain:
Six days a week, you eat 6 meals of no more than 200 calories each. Each meal includes a protein portion and a carbohydrate portion. One fat portion (i.e., avocado, every other day is allowed). No meals after 6 PM. Water only. Protein bars are ok. Six days per week exercise alternating weight lifting with cardio training. On one day per week, you are permitted to increase your food intake moderately and take the day off working out. Yes, it's true. Even God rested one day.
Let me point out my sister is 29 and has no children.
Now, let me describe my life on said diet. First, so much as fiddle with the foil wrapping on a protein bar and my children come running like Pavlovian pups. Now, I've given them half of my precious 200 calorie meal. Repeat every 3 hours. Next, I endure the trials of my kids' snack time. Cookies, chocolate milk, bananas with peanut butter and chocolate chips, crackers with cheese and apples, summer popsicle treats....The temptations are biblical.
Now weight training, I do that every day: kids carried up the stairs, down the stairs, into car seats. Laundry baskets up the stairs, down the stairs. Groceries. Throwing human cannonballs (over and over) in the pool. Trash. Gardening.
Cardio. I am already running, dammit. Don't expect more.
Now, my sister wakes up at 4:30 to exercise every day. She finishes work at 3 and goes home to a silent house. Imagine it for a moment. A silent house. She can putter in her yard. OR NOT. She can do some wash. OR NOT. She can sit on her butt in the sun and read Shape magazine. OR NOT.
I have no OR NOTs. Well, not true exactly. I can watch my kids and have my house not burn down. OR NOT. I can supervise their art project and have clean walls. OR NOT. I can intervene in an argument and avoid the ER. OR NOT. So, we'll assume my day starts at 6 and is not silent for the next 14 hours. This leaves little motivation for the AbMaster. Not to mention the screaming agony of sitting down to pee after doing a 100 lunges across the gym.
So, I'll take my kids, my 14 hour day, and the 15 pound inner tube around my middle, and go have a drink. When science gets over the whole Cancer, AIDS, heart disease thing, and starts to work on the instant slimmifcator, I'll take it. 'Til then, bon appetit.